So I Be Chillin’ With A Wee Beastie, Watching It Blow By Without Me

You know, over the years I find I have become rather adept at acknowledging when that feeling, that sense of foreboding, knowing the cycle is setting to shift into a downward spiral, learned when I needed a nudge up. Recognizing that all the hard work of months and months, and over the years, the crafting, sculpting, discovering, chiselling away at the scale of past disappointments, blah blah blah, all could get swept away? Aw, yes, knowledge is power, and knowing how life and its trials, its winters, how they can steal our joy. Solution this cycle tis the pitter patter of widdle puppy feet; just sayin’.

puppy at rest

She makes a fantastic rumpTus-hating-obsessionism deterrent. Well, her and my new obsession with that History Channel series, The Curse of Oak Island. Binging and cuddlin’, binge and cuddle, have given me that time away from the news cycles wild ride, trying to stay on top of the whirlwind of BREAKING headlines, and quite frankly the whole thing can just go to hell in a handbasket.

Knowing EVERYTHING, well, it can really lose its shine. You sometimes just have to step back, step away, and focus on something else for a bit.

Puppies in that respect are a 100% guarantee, offer complete immunity to the sycophants and the MAGAts. I am now shielded, least for now, from the lies and festering corruption that oozes from everything Trump comes near. I watch a bit, read a bit, but soon turn away, back to this adorable pint size distraction.

I’ve seen snapshots, watched the testimonies after-the-fact, seen acts of courage and service that really gives me faith that the land of my birth will deal this cacophony of cons and corrupt actors the blow they justly deserve, that time and history will judge those that defend that incompetent boob for the sycophants and greedy ego-driven troglodytes they are.

But anywho, ah, that wee lassie is blawdie’ cute as hell, curled up in a ball chillin’ with The Golden One, and she just makes me sigh.

She shines joy and bliss thru to my soul, and makes me laugh out loud.

Walks, well, they are quite another matter, as I call Irish to the door with “wanna go for a clusterf@ck“, and that she knows what I’m talking about tells ya all one needs to know. So the Golden One saunters towards the door with her old dog gait, Pika daemon ninja weasel bouncing and pouncing around her like a demented fairy.

big dog and small dog go for a walk together

Harness’ on {rolling eyes}, Pika pocketed for the first leg of the journey, her little head just peeking out of the messenger bag at my side, as Irish takes almost 10 minutes of sniffing before we’ve even left the property.

I finally let the wee shivering beastie in the bag down to the sidewalk once we reach the corner, and she manages to trip Irish pretty much right away, and so down the Golden One goes, like Bambi. I squat down and wait for her to catch her breath, Pika licks her nose and looks up at me with puppy dog eyes.

So I haul the wee tripping hazard up into the crook of my arm, so I can help Irish up, and off we go, no harm down.

So, I’ve learned when I put Pika down I have to keep her well away from Irish’s random wander-sniffing old gal waltzing way down the sidewalk, sniffing this, sniffing that, and so this walking dance of dogs ensues.

By the end of the walk around that city block the only one of the three of us whose tired is me.

So, I return this morning to those Impeachment Hearings, and watching Sondland’s opening remarks, surmising that the gist of his assertion is that Giuliani is going to act as the fall guy, Trump backs up from Sondland with hands up “I hardly knew the guy“, and did I forget anything? Trump’s not so much ‘guilty‘, per se, as much as he’s a schmuck, an incompetent moron who hitched his wagon to a few bad actors? Riiiight.

Well, I’ll admit the whole thing has begun to give me anxiety, makes me anxious, and I really have only had one eye on the whole thing.

Personally, I’m feeling anxious since I just want this thing to be done and dusted, and maybe a smidgen of wondering what the corruptus rumpTus is going to pull next to switch the narrative to something else. Or, I’m just maybe tired of the whole dang thang and want his arse Impeached already, and over to the Senate to see what those toadies and turds do with all this. I mean, we watch as one after the other solid servant to the constitution testifies to all the crap this cast of characters that swarmed around the commander of cons and greedy guts did to undermine American security and all their dirty deeds come to light, and what they did in the name of a president that is not fit to serve.

Yeah, well, just sayin’ puppies are a wonderful antidote to all that stuff, as I pet that tiny head resting in my lap as I write these words, and nothing that man and his gang of pandering pawns can say or do can stand up to my Pika, the Daemon Ninja Weasel, whose sprawled on my lap.

Chihuahua & Big Golden dog at play

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